


Rites of Passage

by lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill), traintracks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Body Image, Cunnilingus, F/F, Fingerfucking, Frottage, Multiple Orgasms, Object Insertion, Outdoor Sex, fucking with magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-07 03:18:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosed_quill/pseuds/lq_traintracks, https://archiveofourown.org/users/traintracks/pseuds/traintracks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Millicent and Hermione start an affair during eighth year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rites of Passage

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Daily Deviant's theme of: Orgasms (multiple)
> 
> Also, it's a sad if not totally hopeless ending. And it still makes me cry.

**Ice**

Because it happened in the middle of winter, eighth year, Granger's back pressed to the bookshelves in the library, darkness and quiet all around. That time had been clumsy and awkward, Millicent's hand shoved into Granger's dainty bra, her lips pressed hard to Granger's, books falling around their feet. She just hadn't been able to take it anymore: Granger knowing everything all the time, her uppity remarks, her soft skin and long legs.

So it was shocking when Granger broke the rough kiss and started unbuttoning her own blouse. When her breath got fast and uneven. When she went down on her knees, lifted Millicent's skirt, and licked at her through her knickers right there.

Right there.

Millicent had tried not to suffocate her as she'd come, grinding into Granger's swollen lips.

Granger had risen again and kissed her, softer than Millicent might ever have imagined. She'd taken Millicent's hand, her lips gently prying Millicent's open, and she'd pushed Millie's fingers down the front of her own trousers.

Ice coated the windows, concealing them.

 

**Narwhal**

Because Cormac McLaggen called her that after Quidditch practice on a foggy Tuesday afternoon.

"What is that?" Millicent asked, though no part of her actually wanted to know.

"It's a whale, don't you know?" McLaggen laughed, his buddies behind him snickering a harmony.

Granger seemed to come out of nowhere. She had an almost running start, so maybe that's why when she punched him in the face he fell to the ground, out cold.

She turned to Millicent, shaking out her hand with a grimace.

"Sorry," she said. "You could have taken him."

Millicent's shocked face must have been in some small way amusing, because Granger smirked through the pain.

"I've been wanting to do that for years," she said.

Then, when everyone else had gone back to the castle, they found a spot in the stands, in the thick of the fog, Granger leading Millicent there by the uninjured hand.

They sat close, and Granger pulled Millie's hand between her legs first thing. She mewled, shutting her eyes, and Millicent could feel how wet and hot she already was.

It wasn't long before Millicent was on her knees, her tongue finding lace, her hands grasping the smooth thighs that opened for her.

And Granger whispered, "Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful," while she came.

 

**Dickens**

"You've never read _Dickens_?" Granger said in that tone that made Millicent want to grind her teeth together.

"I'm a witch," Millicent said with as much Malfoy-like disdain as she could manage with someone who could touch her and make her whimper whenever she damn well liked.

"That's a terrible excuse. I'm a witch, too, and I've read--"

And then she went on and on for five bloody minutes, listing off books Millicent had never heard of and that sounded as boring as watching snails get from here to there.

Millicent looked around them. There wasn't anybody else in the Slytherin common room. It was late; she and Granger had been studying and just sitting around talking for hours. It was a weeknight. Everyone else was already in bed.

_"...David Copperfield, Bleak House--"_

Millicent grabbed Granger by the back of the neck and pulled her into a kiss.

It was easy to lay her back into the sofa. It was easy to draw her wand and douse the lights. It was easy to wrap Granger's legs around her waist and start...

Moving.

They thrust together, Granger's hips desperately defying gravity to meet the downward shove of Millicent's own. Millicent buried her face against Granger's neck and stifled a moan.

"I'm going to--" Granger got out. And then she pulled a throw pillow to her face and began to come. Millicent ground herself between Granger's clutching legs, and it went on and on.

When it weakened -- when Granger was panting beneath her, pink-cheeked, pupils blown -- Millicent snuck her hand between them. She yanked on Granger's knickers, and, with Granger's help, got them around her ankles.

"Someone could see," Granger whispered. But her legs opened back up nonetheless.

Millicent didn't answer and pushed a finger into Granger's soaked cunt slowly.

Granger brought her slender wrist to her mouth and bit it. She rode Millicent's finger in aborted thrusts that made Millie so hot she felt violent with it.

They worked up to it, both scared of being caught. Both more than scared. Elated. When Millicent added a second finger, Granger grabbed her by the hair and hissed. But then she opened her mouth under Millicent's, sighed, and started to come again.

Granger's cunt massaged Millicent's fingers, slicking her to the butt of her hand. Millicent pumped in and out -- long, punishing strokes that had Granger gasping away from the kiss.

"Too hard?" Millicent whispered.

Granger shook her frizzy head no. She kicked off her knickers entirely and opened her thighs. She opened so far, her knees neared her shoulders. Millicent stilled, trembling with excitement, then slipped a third finger inside.

Granger threw her head back. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. Her hips rolled and jerked, and Millicent's hand rammed into her clit as she fucked her.

"Millie," Granger gasped. "Millie, oh fuck."

And then it happened again.

Millicent barely got the Silencing charm out before Granger started to keen.

 

**Recalcitrant**

Because she'd never had a girlfriend. Getting turned on by Pansy berating her didn't count. Millicent started to wonder if she shouldn't stop things.

Granger was Gryffindor. Millicent was Slytherin. The war hadn't changed those facts. And while others had overcome their houses in much the same way she and Granger had of late -- I mean, there was a lot of interhouse sex going on -- so much so that Granger's knickers weren't the only ones to disappear in the Slytherin common room sofa cushions -- still there sat a grave little stone in Millie's gut when she thought of all that they ignored on a daily basis. All they pretended wasn't true. Just so they could get a hand down one another's panties.

Just for that.

Millicent poured pumpkin juice into her fanged geranium's pot as Professor Sprout had instructed and watched the thing gulp it down.

"Psst," Granger hissed. "You're going to overfeed it."

Millicent looked up, and Granger was smiling at her. She had her hand on her neck in this strangely attractive pose -- fingers wrapped around back, under the wisps of hair, heel of her hand under her bony chin, an elbow leaned on the table. She wasn't working. She was just watching Millicent.

"They've been known to vomit," she advised. Then, incongruously, "Would you like to take a walk down to the lake after class? It's getting warmer now."

Any thoughts of calling anything off left Millicent's mind as though she'd been Imperiused.

She shoved the geranium away from her. "Yeah," she said, and Granger laughed.

 

**Reductive**

Because Granger's head was between her legs. Because Granger seemed to love eating her out. Because the sun was high and shining through the skinny leaves of trees way above, and the wind sounded like a chorus of breath. Like the air through Millicent's hungry lungs.

Granger snuck her wand out, and Millicent felt it against her thigh. "What are you doing?" she sighed.

"You never let me take your clothes off," Granger lifted her mouth to say.

"You've got my trousers bunched around one leg right now," Millicent complained, her heart beating so hard in her chest, she could see it as she frowned down at Granger's shiny lips.

"I want everything," Granger told her.

Millicent's cunt ached for orgasm, and she found Granger's stopping more than a little frustrating, so against her better judgment, she nodded perfunctorily.

To her surprise, Granger didn't banish her clothes in one fell swoop. Instead she sat up; she crawled to Millicent's side. She leaned her head on her hand (it did not look so fetching now that she wasn't focused on giving Millicent oral sex) and she drew her wand from the tip of Millicent's earlobe, down her throat, and then finally down to the first button of her blouse. And when the wand touched, the button popped open.

Millicent swallowed, releasing her held breath. Granger smiled at her.

She undressed her in this way, one slow button at a time, until she had her down to her bra. Then Granger leaned over and took one nipple into her mouth through the fabric. She worked it against her top teeth, worrying it and then laving until Millicent moaned and arched into it. Granger flicked open the bra and took one nipple between thumb and forefinger as she sucked the other one. She lifted her mouth to whisper a wandless charm, and then Millicent felt some warm magic begin to tingle between her legs. Something somehow slick and undulating.

Millicent groaned and opened her legs.

"Like that?" Granger breathed over her nipple and then took it back inside her mouth. She started to pluck at the other one, and the magic covered Millicent's cunt in warmth like a mouth.

But then it started vibrating.

"Oh!" Millicent exclaimed, and Granger laughed.

Millicent's whole body lit up under Granger's touch, and in mere moments she was coming, moving against the magic between her legs, against Granger's lips, against the ocean of sky.

Granger didn't let up. She lifted her mouth only long enough to whisper another charm, and then the magic pulled back, reformed, became solid and smooth and big and then it...

"Oh fuck," Millicent groaned as it entered her. She shook and held her knees up as it thrust inside her.

Granger lifted her mouth and resituated, getting between Millicent's legs and pressing her own pubic bone against Millicent's clit, the magic still inside. Then Granger began moving in time with the magic, so that it was Granger inside of her, Granger grinding against her, Granger's mark left on the slope of her breast, Granger's words -- beautiful, beautiful, beautiful -- smooth strokes of syllables remembered through her muscles, and Millicent's orgasm burst over her again -- ceaseless, unrelenting, reducing her to her body.

Elevating her to it.

Granger only stopped to pepper lazy kisses over Millicent's chest, down her ribs, over her stomach, her legs, her hips, her stomach again. She withdrew her magic only to rub it between the lips of Millie's sex, over her swollen clit. Then Granger worked Millicent's breasts with her mouth again and had her coming from that -- muted now and nearly painful.

Millicent hadn't known she could do that. Any of it. The orgasms, the nakedness, the kissing...

...and whatever this feeling was that sat in her gut, an almost-sadness that she wished would never end.

 

**Onward**

Because Granger had landed an internship with a prestigious witch and wizarding law firm, Abbott, Podmore, and Wood, and Millicent had been accepted as a bench player for the Harpies next season.

Suddenly, Granger was surrounded by congratulatory Gryffindors and Millicent was surrounded by gloating Slytherins, and they seemed so far away from one another that they might as well already be gone.

But Granger found her after Potions the last day of classes and dragged her aside.

"Can we find somewhere to talk?" Granger asked.

They'd gone to the library, where it had first happened, and disappeared together into the stacks.

"I suppose you're going to be frightfully busy, being on a famous Quidditch team and all," Granger said, the toe of her shoe working to dismantle a loose thread from the already threadbare rug.

"Not as busy as you studying and...litigating...or what have you," Millicent groused.

Granger took her hand. She stared at the floor between them. "Not so very busy, I shouldn't think," she said.

"No?"

Granger looked at her, and Millicent was shocked to see the tears in her eyes, the red outlining them that she hadn't noticed before. Granger's bottom lip trembled.

Millicent may have taken a step in; she wasn't sure. Granger just filled her arms in that moment. Millicent's mouth pressed into Granger's unruly hair, and Granger's body shook against hers.

Millicent felt, for once, like a lion.

They promised to visit by floo. They promised to send owls. Granger said she'd buy season tickets even if Millicent didn't actually get to play one game. Millicent promised to never need a defense attorney, and Granger laughed through her sniffling.

In the days following, Millicent tried not to think about how they hadn't kissed one more time. She tried not to think of how Granger's hand slipping out of her own had felt. She tried not to think about the empty sound of unread books and Granger's steps walking -- and then running -- away.

She remembered Granger's wand tracing her throat, Granger's legs wrapped around her hips, the panties Millicent had retrieved from the sofa and then promptly nicked.

She remembered the lapping of the lake and feeling like they had something no one could touch.

And when she remembered, the almost-sad thing inside her broke open finally, and too late, she realized what it was.


End file.
